Attacked
by Valaina Wynn
Summary: (AU) When Sam and Dean are hunting a Wendigo in the forests of Minnesota, the hunt goes terribly, terribly wrong. Now it's up to their half-sister Mercedes to keep them alive.


**A/N: So I was on Omegle and I role-played with a stranger. It turned into this, and my new friend let me put it on here. After much editing (We did type rather fast), this is now a completed one-shot. I don't usually do AUs, but the role-play was pretty interesting, as was the story we eventually created after an hour of typing back and forth.**

**Enjoy :) and Omegle person that didn't tell me their name, this is for you.**

Mercedes ran a hand through her dirty blonde hair, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as she waited inside the Impala for her two half-brothers. They didn't often leave her in the car during hunts, but when they did, she hated it. She had told them time and time again that she could handle herself, but Sam and Dean still had to play the roles of over-protective brothers. They were naturals.

Sighing, she glanced out the car's slightly smudgy window, gazing across the tree line of the Red Acres Forest, a national park that had been subject to disappearances of some unfortunate hikers for the past few weeks. As usual, Sam and Dean had been aching to check it out. Mercedes, being the wonderful little sister that she was, had agreed with only a little griping and complaining. And so the trio was off to Minnesota.

They had arrived around noon and convinced the local authorities that they were two FBI Agents and a sixteen-year-old intern. Truthfully, Mercedes still couldn't believe that that had worked. She was only fourteen, so she took it as a compliment that she looked older. After playing the FBI card for a while, the siblings taken it upon themselves to find the woods. And Sam and Dean had rushed right in with guns drawn. And, of course, orders to Mercedes to stay in the car while they did a 'particularly dangerous job', as they called it. Which was why Mercedes was now sitting in the car, bored out of her mind and worried for her loved ones.

They were hunting a Wendigo, a pretty foul creature with a tendency to kidnap people, drag them back to its lair, and slowly devour them. Mercedes hadn't had the 'pleasure' of facing one yet because her brothers claimed that it would be too much of a challenge at her young age. Typical. But the teenager had to admit, from what she had read about the monsters, they were a nasty bunch that she probably didn't want to meet. So she reluctantly stayed behind and waited. And waited. And waited.

Sam and Dean had been in the woods for nearly half an hour. They had told her that if they were gone for longer than that, she should call Bobby. He would help her, tell her what to do. But Mercedes wasn't quite ready to make the call. She was confident in her brothers' abilities as Hunters; they'd surely be done soon, and walk out of the woods toward the car, laughing and talking as they reveled in their victory over yet another evil…

Mercedes looked out the window for what seemed like the millionth time, trying to pick out the shapes of her brothers from the shadows of the giant trees. Sadly, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. The young Hunter glanced down at the phone clenched tightly in her left hand. The phone that had a mere three numbers on it: Sam's, Dean's, and Bobby's. Mercedes sighed, knowing that Sam and Dean's phones were always off during hunts; it was a safety precaution. Hopefully Bobby's phone would still be on if the need to call him _did _arise…

Suddenly, a silhouetted figure emerged from the dense woods, stumbling toward the Impala on seemingly unsteady legs. Mercedes stiffened and quickly reached across the seat, where a pistol and flare gun were lying on the worn leather. She grabbed both, the flare gun ready to engulf a Wendigo in flames and the pistol loaded to kill just about anything else. The teenager slowly rolled down the car window and pointed both weapons out, her sharp eyes trained on the distant moving figure.

As the thing got closer and the afternoon light hit it, Mercedes began to make out details. Long dark hair, ragged and torn clothes. Definitely human. Down went the flare gun, but up stayed the pistol. The figure got even closer. A dirtied plaid flannel shirt, jeans with holes in both knees, an empty holster on the right hip…

"Sam!"

Mercedes yelled her brother's name in both shock and joy, not caring what heard her. Disregarding earlier orders, she unlocked the door and leapt out of the car, running toward her brother. "Sam, are you okay? Where's…"

She trailed off when she reached him, gasping as she took in his full appearance. Sam was covered in blood. "Oh God, Sam, what happened?" Mercedes tried hard not to start panicking, which was hard considering most of the blood seemed to belong to Sam. His body was littered with cuts of various sizes, ranging from nicks the severity of papercuts to gashes that spanned the entire length of his bloody chest and back. He was swaying back and forth, adrenaline the only thing keeping him upright.

"The Wendigo…it found us before…before we found it," he croaked out, wincing as the mere movement of his mouth caused various cuts on his cheeks to pull at his skin. "Dean hit it with the flare, but…but not before it beat us both up…pretty bad.

"It got 'im pretty bad before…before it died. Dean told me to…run, to come get you, and…" Sam stopped talking when he realized that he no longer knew where Dean was, and all the energy he was desperately trying to hold onto dissolved at once. He would have fallen over if Mercedes hadn't caught him, allowing the injured Hunter to lean heavily on her as she guided him around to the front of the car. Sam practically collapsed into the passenger's seat, grateful not to have to stand up any longer. But his fear and worry for Dean was close to overriding all his other feelings, including exhaustion. Mercedes seemed to sense her older brother's distress, for her face grew even grimmer and her grip tightened on her pistol.

"I'll go find him, Sam," she said, a determined expression crossing her face. "You said the Wendigo's dead, right? So all I gotta do is get into the woods, find Dean and then-"

"No." Despite his injuries, Sam's voice was firm, adamant. Stubborn. "It's too dangerous. Something else might've gotten him, and then it would get you." Mercedes sighed in exasperation. Her brother was just not listening.

"Whatever's out there will probably get me either way, regardless of whether I stay here or go with you. So I'm going. With. You." She set her jaw, looking Sam in the eyes and daring him to disagree.

He looked at her with a defeated expression, but a small smile on his cut and bloody face. "God, you sound just like Dean. Fine, we'll find him together."

Mercedes allowed herself to believe that that was a compliment. Sam opened the trunk and grabbed another pistol and a flare gun, the same kind as Mercedes'. The two, already wary of what they might find, headed back into the woods.

Sam limped along quickly and quietly, his hand tightly gripping the flare gun. No matter how far in they got, Sam always took care to be a little in front of Mercedes. Despite the situation, Mercedes couldn't help but hold back a snicker. The love was astounding.

The two made sure that they didn't lose sight of each other, but also took care to check in every direction for their missing brother.

"Sam, look." Mercedes had suddenly stopped, grabbing her brother's torn sleeve to alert him. She pointed to a dark heap of cloth, half-covered with leaves and other forest debris.

"That's either Dean or a dead body or both."

As they neared the mysterious heap, Sam carefully kept himself between it and Mercedes. A shield. The two crept closer cautiously, Sam making sure to keep himself in front. Brother and sister stopped about a foot away, but were still unable to make out any details in the immense shadows of the trees. Sam used his flare gun to roll the thing over…

He gasped. "Oh my God, Dean..."

The heap was, in fact, the oldest Winchester sibling. He looked just as bad, if not worse, than Sam. The Hunter's nose, clearly broken, was framed by two rather impressive black eyes. There were two worrying cuts crossing the side of his head, running around from the nape of his neck to his right temple. One of his legs bent out at an awkward angle at the knee, and it was terribly scratched. Sam sank to the ground beside his brother, and Mercedes quickly followed suit.

"How did this happen?" Mercedes asked, her voice trembling with fear and worry for her injured brother.

"I-I don't…" Sam was almost speechless. How _had _this happened? The Wendigo had died, he had _seen it die. _"It must…have been something else. Maybe another one."

"Well," Mercedes said, finally composing herself and standing up, "we'll only know for sure once he wakes up and tells us. Come on, Sam. We have to get him to a hospital. You too, for that matter." For once, her older brother didn't argue. Instead, he gently scooped Dean up in his arms and cradled him against his chest. Sam swayed back and forth due to his injuries and the extra weight he now bore.

"I can take him, Sam." Mercedes stepped forward, ready to try and catch both her half-siblings, no matter how heavy they were. "I mean, I can _try…_"

"I got him. Oh God, Dean..." Sam seemed to almost be in shock. He turned and quickly limped toward the car. Mercedes followed at a brisk pace, still making sure her brother wouldn't stumble and injure himself or Dean further. Also, she wanted to make sure that the thing that hurt Dean wouldn't suddenly creep out from among the trees and kill them all…

Dean shifted in Sam's arms as they neared the Impala, seeming almost aware that someone was carrying him. He didn't seem to like it. The older Hunter made a small noise of contempt, but his slight struggling was weak and half-hearted. Sam only tightened his grip.

"Shut up, Dean," the younger brother mumbled affectionately as he reached the Impala, Mercedes right behind him. Dean was gently lowered into the back seat, barely awake enough to groan.

"I'll stay in back with him and fix what I can," Mercedes said. "Or should I drive? No offense, but you don't look much better than he does." She motioned to the now unconscious Dean.

"I'm driving. I can get there faster." Sam's voice seemed even quieter and weaker now, if that was even possible. "We both know how slowly you drive." Despite the lightness of the jibe, there was no humor in his voice. He climbed into the driver's seat and revved the engine.

They made it to the small Minnesota hospital in record time. Sam pulled up to the emergency room entrance, ignoring all the orderlies that tried to stop him, and stopped next to the curb. Mercedes practically jumped out of the car. Sam got out much more slowly. Mercedes ran up to the nearest person, a young EMT that happened to be coming back from his break, and grabbed his arm to get his attention.

"You have to help us, sir!" She couldn't forget to be polite, after all. "My brothers are seriously hurt and-" A loud thump behind the young Hunter cut her off. Sam had suddenly collapsed on the sidewalk, all his adrenaline depleted. The EMT immediately snapped into action and hurried over to the young man, giving him a cursory once-over.

"You said your brothers?" He asked with urgency. "As in 'more than one'?"

Mercedes nodded impatiently, but for once, no sarcasm came out of her mouth; her voice seemed like it would choke her if she tried to use it. The EMT finally understood and called over one of his friends, who hurried to the car with a stretcher and carefully loaded Dean onto it. The man with Sam did the same thing and both brothers were wheeled into the hospital, Mercedes hot on the EMTs' heels.

They wouldn't let her into Surgery, where Sam and Dean were getting their various broken and/or sprained limbs taken care of, so Mercedes begrudgingly sat in the lobby and called Bobby. She filled out some paperwork while she waited, and was relieved when the elder Hunter finally arrived.

Bobby stormed into the lobby, ignoring all the grumbling people he pushed past, and headed straight for where Mercedes was sitting. She stood up immediately and he enveloped him in a hug.

"What happened?" Bobby asked when he finally pulled away from the teenager. She hesitated before answering in a small voice, completely forgetting to try and be brave.

"A Wendigo happened. But I filled out all the paperwork I could. They-they won't let me sign them into a room…" Her voice trailed off, but she didn't need to say anything else for Bobby to know what she meant.

"I'll go sign for them," he said, and kissed the top of her head before walking away to the front desk and talking to the receptionist, a kind older lady. He came back soon after, a small smile on his face. "Sam and Dean Weinstein, signed into the same room. We'll be able to visit in a little bit." Mercedes' smile soon matched Bobby's.

The doctor walked into the lobby after a while, a neutral expression adorning his face.

"Family of Sam and Dean Weinstein?" He asked. Mercedes and Bobby stood up. The doctor smiled. "They're right down the hall, and one of them is awake. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to their room." He walked down the corridor, the two Hunters following close behind.

"You did good, Mercey," Bobby said, using his favorite nickname for her. "Now, I guess all that's left to do is go and see your brothers."

A few days later, Sam and Dean were finally released from the hospital. Dean griped about not being able to drive because of the cast on his leg, and Sam's face still hurt, but Mercedes knew that her two half-brothers would pull through. She smiled; they always did, after all.

**A/N: Well, I hope that that contained the appropriate amounts of angst and fluff for all you readers out there. It was hard work, making this look presentable after my roleplaying buddy and I just hashed it out on Omegle, but I think I did a pretty decent job. Anyway, reviews mean love, and who knows, maybe I'll even find my buddy again!**

**~Val**


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